there is but one rule
hunt or be hunted
hunt or be hunted
| He had been molded and fashioned for something far greater than living the life of a kingdom-dweller his creators from hell would say. But he would disagree. The dark hellhound had found there was something more than living the life of a commoner as a resident or a nomad. When you wear the crown, there is more that comes with the title. Power. But there is more than just power. Power was a fickle thing, and it swayed back and forth between everything. It could never be fully controlled, and often it was just like the fruit of knowledge of good and evil that Eve had taken a bite from—everyone wanted it, so it seemed. There was more than just power to him. Opportunity. He took the chance when he could have been considered nothing. A lowlife some could call him, but he is neither that. The hound is a hunter, and he hunts for opportunity. He gladly takes the risk. And the risk for taking his place as the Champion under Arthas and Lepis ruling had just done the trick. The crown has finally fallen into his hands. Well, a piece of it. Sinner does not consider that part. He doesn’t need to despite the fact he has given Mary the other half of the crown, but she is kin to his every own motive and desire. Perhaps his other half. Sinner has never felt a threat from her, and he never plans on feeling that way. In short time, a white mare appears from the horizon. His glowing eyes follow the mare has she makes her way around the land with ease. Sinner doesn’t know she is over a hundred years old. Nothing in the ways he looks or moves gives the hint of her age. She is eternally youthful. However, he notices the signs of the plague on her. The plague has taken yet another victim while he remains eternally untouched. A gift the dark god had called it for his act into bringing the plague. But he is not the only one that had had a hand within it all too. Sinner did not find the plague to be a downfall as many would. It was an event that he was glad that came into Beqanna and created chaos. It was where he had found his opportunity, and where he would find more in the end. Her greeting is pleasant, which he assumes the mare plays the role of a diplomat. Always quick with their words, and tricky with what they said. But was this so-called white mare, Ryatah, a master of words? Sinner has yet to find out. “Well, hello there,” his lips curve into a friendly smile. However, it’s hard for someone such as a hellhound to manage even such a pleasant expression. He is about to speak further, but his attention drifts to the buckskin stallion that approaches. The buckskin stallion greets the mare with a friendly manner, he notices. He is always taking notes of what he sees and hears. It was a way for him to get an idea of what everything was like within the world outside of Sylva. Magnus bows his head in greeting, but the hellhound does not offer the same manner back. He is obviously arrogant and does not care to show his true colors. Pride was not something to be ashamed of after all. “A pleasure to meet you both, Magnus and Ryatah.” He licks his lips lightly before continuing. He at least tries to have some decency. “I am Sinner, co-ruler of Sylva. I have come to see how others and their lands are faring with the plague.” He glances from Magnus to Ryatah and then to the Tephra territory that stretches behind the two others. “All seems well,” he comments, drawing his own conclusion, before turning his yellow-red gaze back to the Tephrans. |
Sinner
the king of sylva
@[magnus] @[Ryatah]
Profile | Detailed Bio | Character Reference
Most likely always in his hellhound form